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It’s no secret that I’m getting married a month from today. The generally frazzled look, messy hair, hundreds of wedding planning Google docs open on my computer – there’s really no hiding it.

I’ve always heard that the three most stressful things in a person’s life are moving, depression and planning a wedding. I’ve dealt with the other two, but this is my first wedding. I can happily say that overall, it’s been a very happy event. A few minor disagreements here and there, but overall it’s been pretty smooth sailing. Except for one little thing.

We all know stories and maybe even have friends who’ve experienced direct discrimination when it comes to wedding planning. A good friend of ours just dealt with someone on Etsy who refused to make a guestbook for them because Jesus didn’t want her to or something. And then there’s the story of the Washington florist. A gay man went to her regularly, spending lots of money and developing a nice relationship with this florist – all of a sudden, when it came time for the man’s wedding – the woman could no longer take his money. Having zero to do with marriage equality of course, and everything to do with that state’s anti-discrimination laws, the woman is now being sued by the state for violating those laws.

Those are huge infractions and those business owners who choose to violate state laws banning discrimination against gay people should absolutely be held accountable for breaking those laws. But then there are the seemingly little things.

With nearly every vendor we’ve dealt with (with the exception of the caterer who is located in Provincetown and services more gay weddings than straight) has asked us “who’s the bride” at one point or another. It’s an understandable question as I realize that gay weddings are a relatively new phenomenon. But it’s nonetheless a constant reminder of the fact that we’re still not “normal.”

Luckily, we haven’t run into any outright bigotry with any of our wedding vendors – so we feel very fortunate. But every time I see a form, or am asked for the name of my soon-to-be wife, it’s another conversation I have to have. But instead of feeling that shame I spent much of my 20s trying to get rid of, I take it to the next step and ask to speak to a manager. Or I simply make a formal request for that company to change the form and educate their employees.

From the time I was a little kid – every movie I saw, every book I read, every TV show I watched – featured straight couples, causing me to think there was something wrong with me. If by asking a company to correct a form or change their phrasing to “what’s the name of the other party?” or “what is your fiancé’s name?”, I can help stop someone from recalling those unfortunate feelings of inadequacy, I’m happy to do it.

At the end of the day, we’re in a very exciting time – it means more work for us – more calling out of the things that make us feel less than, and most importantly, more patience and assumption of good intent.

The guy who works at Men’s Wearhouse who asks me the bride’s name isn’t intentionally trying to make me feel bad that I’m not straight. But if I take a moment to calmly tell him that there’s no bride, but I’m happy to tell him the other groom’s name, he may stumble and feel awkward for a moment – but I bet he’ll think twice next time he makes that assumption.

Look, it sometimes sucks to have to be the ones who forge new territory, but at the end of the day we have an awesome opportunity to make the next generation of LGBT people feel more comfortable through some really easy conversations. Speak out when someone says one of those things that makes you feel less than. Don’t be afraid to ask someone to change their form so that it’s inclusive of you and your family.

Again, most often, there’s no ill-intent, just a lack of education or experience. It’s up to us to make it easier for the next generation.

When I was a little boy, I read all the same books every kid read. I watched all the Disney movies everyone else saw. I knew the happily-ever-afters in and out. The prince found the princess, woke her up with a kiss and they rode off into the sunset.

From the time I was 10, I was also doing musicals so I figured out early on that I was gay. Even though I may have not known what it all meant, I knew I was different and there had to be a reason that those movies weren’t telling the happily-ever-after that played out in my head. So I hid.

That’s me on the right…I was Daddy Warbucks in Annie when I was a sophomore in high school.

I went to high school and continued doing musicals and hating sports – ever the cliché, I could neither kick, throw or catch a ball. By then, the only mention of gay people I ever heard was about AIDS. It was the late 80s and being gay was no longer something that was invisible, it was a forbidden, terrible thing to be. Further into my closet I went. That 10 year old voice in my head telling me that marriage would never happen for me grew ever louder.

In college, things seemed to be changing. Despite seeing Matthew Shepard brutally murdered and the AIDS crisis continue, I was growing up – it was time to start standing up for who I was. I came out. But that 10 year old in my head was still shouting “You’ll never get married – people like you will never be good enough for that.”

Me with my best friend Laura (now a Tony Winner and huge TV star) and Julia (a huge Broadway star) at one of the first concerts I produced.

After college, I moved to New York. I worked in theatre, produced Broadway concerts, and became a voice actor for Pokémon and dozens of other cartoons. I was out and I was happy – I even had a few relationships. I was never wealthy, but I made ends meet. I was fighting for equality and it felt right, but strangely enough – I still had that little boy’s voice echoing in my head telling me I’d never have that day – the same one I’d seen my brothers through and stood by as my best friend was married, twice. It wasn’t something that made me angry – ever. It was something I’d just accepted as fact.

An autumn afternoon in DC

A few years later, I was putting together a rally to fight the anti-gay military policy, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’d brought a bus full of people from New York to DC for the event and the night before, I was running to different gay bars around the city to promote the rally. I walked into Nellie’s sports bar and a man walked up to me. He said “You’re not from here, are you?” “How do you know?” I replied. “You’re carrying a big gay metro DC map. Which of course I was, with rainbow flags emblazoned over all the gay bars. He grabbed half my flyers and spent the rest of the night chatting and getting people to join us for the rally the next morning.

And then this happened.

Flash forward a year and a half and I was living in Washington DC with Sean. It was New Year’s Eve and we were celebrating in a cozy gay bar with about 40 friends. As the countdown approached, no one was watching the TV, everyone had turned to face Sean and I. I immediately knew something was up. Sean hugged me and whispered into my ear “I have to ask you something.” With tears in his eyes, and having created the public spectacle he knew an actor from New York would clearly love – Sean got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

And for the first time in my life, I no longer hear that 10-year old’s voice.

We both now work as organizers in DC, fighting for equality and teaching others how to fight for the things they care most about. We still don’t make a lot of money, but we’re happy – happier than a lot of people I know. We’re not wealthy, but we make ends meet. And next May, we’re going to get married in Provincetown, MA. This isn’t too far from where I grew up and where my mom (whose health won’t allow her to travel too far) can get to fairly easily. Happily, some friends are pitching in to help us have the wedding we really want and we couldn’t be more grateful.

I’m marrying Sean Carlson because he is strong and he is a person I laugh with more than any other person I’ve ever met. i’ve watched him grow and have enjoyed growing with him. Sean is someone whose values I share. We spend evenings sometimes violently agreeing with one another on the important things we hold most dear to our hearts. On top of that, he loves my dog Eli – truly, the two are inseparable. I’m marrying Sean to honor that 10-year old who never dared dream of what I might one day have. And I’m marrying him because I love him.

We understand that us getting married is bound to be a political statement – and while that’s clearly not the reason we’re getting married, I can’t help but hope some 10-year old kid out there doing Evita reads this and realizes that there is nothing that’s too good for him.

If you’d like to help us have the wedding we hope to have – and after helping those who need it most you have an extra dollar or two, please visit our little fundraising page. Thanks again for reading our blog and we wish you the happiest of holidays.

My friend Lanae, who plays violin with the Capital City Symphony and is one of the coolest LGBT activists I know, is getting married on April 28th.

Little did she know when she and her fiancée Laura were planning her wedding, that the one and only Rachel Maddow would be visiting DC at the time. Their friends are now angry with them because like any good lesbian, they are fans of Ms. Maddow…and will now have to miss her DC appearance.

Rachel is currently on a book tour, promoting Drift: The Unmooring of American Military Power. As a huge non-lesbian fan of Rachel Maddow myself, this book explores much of what she frequently reports on and is clearly fascinated by – America’s use of military might. If you’ve watched her show on MSNBC, you’ve probably caught one of her many fascinating stories about F-22 fighter jets, weapons of mass destruction or highly enriched uranium. And while never advocating the use of these things, her near-obsession with weapons and the history behind them is always evident.

While I’m personally still waiting and hoping for a personalized, autographed copy of her book, and her DC book-signing is sold-out, I’m thinking there’s another way to meet her.

Rachel Maddow

Lanae and Laura have put together a special little invitation for Rachel. And while I’m not technically “invited” to the wedding, I will more than likely be crashing if Rachel Maddow decides to go.

I asked Lanae, what they would do if Rachel actually showed up. At first they thought of having her sign their ketubah (which is kind of a Jewish pre-nup that gets signed by friends and family at the wedding), but they decided that would be a bridge too far. So they’d be really happy with a signed program and a Maddow signature cocktail.

Our friends Matt & Tom arrived at the apartment around 8pm for some pre-New Year’s Eve drinks and finger food. Hurriedly, I was plating meatballs and chicken wings when Matt knocked a bottle of red wine, sending it crashing to the floor. Immediately all four of us were sopping up red wine from the carpet and searching for solutions to avoid the stain. Happily after 10 minutes, it seemed the stain was avoided. We commenced eating and drinking and were then joined by our friend Gareth.

We headed off to meet our other friends at a bar in Dupont where I’d thrown Sean’s surprise birthday party last May. Uncharacteristically, Sean had made the decision to act as the evening’s cruise director and a couple dozen friends were meeting us at this bar.

It seemed like any other New Year’s Eve. Hanging with friends, watching Anderson Cooper be cute and Kathy Griffin be obnoxious on big screen TVs throughout the bar. But there was also an underlying anxiety that was hard to describe. Knowing what I know now, I can see the reason why at 11:59:30, almost everyone in the room was staring at me and Sean as they counted down.

3…2…1! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I kissed him for 3-5 seconds like I promised in yesterday’s blog post and pulled back to see Sean’s eyes filled with tears. He leaned back in and said in my ear, “I’ve got a question for you.” “Oh, do you? And what’s that?” I replied. The next 10 seconds felt like a lifetime as Sean struggled for words and the tears streamed down his face. Pausing, as the words weren’t coming, Sean reached into his vest pocket, pulled something out and fell to one knee. “Will you…will you marry me?”

Shock. My brain immediately went into hyperdrive, back to every wedding I went to as a kid and a teenager. There was this feeling that since I was gay, a wedding was not only a long shot, but damn near impossible. I’d resigned myself to the idea that marriage was for other people. Even with the work we’ve done towards equality and even after attending several gay weddings, that underlying feeling pervaded.

“Are you kidding? ARE YOU KIDDING?” were the only words my lizard brain could come up with as Sean knelt trembling and crying on the floor. “Will you?” he asked again. “Yes, of course.” he got up and we embraced for what felt like 30 minutes – shaking and crying. “Don’t make me turn around and look at all these people” Sean said, “I’m going to be a sobbing mess if I turn around and see them.” I turned him around and the merriment ensued.

So here I am today, a man engaged. No mother, we have not set the date yet. All we can say for sure now is that there will be rainbows, glitter, and at least two Tony Award winners who’ve already offered to perform.